


Way too young to be broken

by repochan



Series: The melancholy of Baz Pitch [2]
Category: Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Depression, Eating Disorders, How Do I Tag, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild Sexual Content, POV Simon Snow, Post-Watford (Simon Snow), References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 02:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/repochan/pseuds/repochan
Summary: It took me so long to notice.Guess I was busy, you know, with the life I’d never thought I’d get to live. I had my part-time job, and all the classes, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, now that I knew I got to have one. It took me so long, way too long, to notice.





	Way too young to be broken

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, back with another SnowBaz, cause I'm obsessed with these two, and I can't wait for Wayward son... Also, cause I still don't know how to tag things, I wanna say 
> 
> *TRIGGER WARNING*
> 
> This story deals with eating disorder, so if that triggers you, please read with caution. Also this is loosely (cause I'm not a vampire) based on my own experience, so I'm not a specialist on the matter, and I didn't exactly explain everything Baz feel, and why he's feeling it, sooo.. Hope you still enjoy! Also, mild sexual content, cause I can't for the life of me write smut...
> 
> ALSO excuse my English, I swear I write better in Finnish! D:

It took me so long to notice.  
Guess I was busy, you know, with the life I’d never thought I’d get to live. I had my part-time job, and all the classes, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, now that I knew I got to have one. And he had been doing so much better, he tried, really hard. Just like he promised. He was so strong, and I was so proud of him, of us. Sure I still had my shit to deal with, but everything was so much better, with Baz too.  
It took me so long, way too long, to notice.

I woke up to Baz throwing up. It sounded violent, and I was up in a second. He had locked the bathroom door.  
I tried to remember if I had ever seen or heard him throw up before. I heard him gagging, and it sounded so wrong.  
“Baz, you okay?”  
For a moment all I hear is him breathing, then he says:  
“I’m fine. Guess I ate something bad.”  
He sounded so normal, a bit annoyed even. So I figured that’s all it was, him being sick. When he came back to bed, he didn’t say anything. I felt like maybe I should. Say something. Maybe I should’ve asked if everything was okay. But I knew how that felt, someone constantly asking how you are. Like you can’t take care of yourself, like you can’t be trusted to tell if you’re not fine. So I said nothing, just put my hand over him, and drew him close. He tensed up for a second, but eventually relaxed into my touch.

He keeps telling me he’s busy, that he doesn’t have time to eat with me and Penny. He just grabs something from the store while he’s on the way home. Or on the way to our apartment. And he sounds so exited talking about school, all the classes he’s attending. He smiles, and sounds normal, so I believe him.

He no longer undresses in front of me, not fully anyway. But he’s always cold, so that’s normal, right? Whenever we’re being soft with each other, he doesn’t want to take his shirt off. It annoys me at first, him being all modest all of a sudden, refusing to show his lovely pale skin. And it’s not like he has a problem of asking me to take my shirt off. I always mean to argue, but once his lips are all over me, it suddenly doesn’t seem to matter that much.  
I used to mark him all over, even though the love bites never lasted long on his skin. Not that I minded, it just meant I had to mark him over and over again.  
I loved his collar bones in particular. The way they stuck sharply from below his skin. I always licked him there, tasted the smile that connected those collars together. There would be a little pool of sweat when we were done, when we both were breathing hard, and I could smell the lust on his skin. And I knew that was something only I got to smell.  
He was something only I got to hold.  
And I would hold him, no matter what.  
Even if he didn’t want me to.

Eventually I did notice. I noticed his fingers getting slimmer. His hipbones became sharper.  
I noticed how he started to avoid foods he usually liked to eat.  
I mean, he did eat, in front of me at least. But he ate because he had to. Not because he wanted to.  
I heard his stomach grumbling. Sometimes at night, it was all I could hear. I felt it when I was holding him.  
He was starving.

I tried to talk about it, gently. Asking what he had eaten today, if he would like to order in, if I could make him something, anything. But talking about food and eating made him uneasy. And he did drink blood, he never missed it. And he got out of bed every morning, and he seemed happy, he laughed a lot.  
And I thought maybe this would go away, maybe it was nothing.  
And then he collapsed, just as he entered our apartment, scaring the shit out of me and Penny. At first I thought he was drunk, and I almost laughed. But then I saw his face.  
And for a moment I couldn’t do anything, as Penny rushed to him and helped him up.  
I was so mad.  
So so mad.  
At Baz, for not telling me something was wrong.  
At myself for ignoring all the signs, pretending, hoping, that it was nothing. That it would pass. Because Baz was strong, and he had been doing so well.  
I was mad at my parents, whom I’ve never even met, cause they had left me. Cause they made me do all this, life, by myself.  
I was mad at Baz’s family for not being here, for not making sure he was okay. For not taking care of him when he Turned, for not teaching him there was nothing wrong with him.  
I told him that, over and over again. But he didn’t believe me.  
He doesn’t believe me.

Baz is laying in my bed when I enter the room. He is staring at the ceiling, waiting for me to talk about it.  
But I don’t know what to say.  
I don’t know if I’m sad, or angry or just really worried.  
I guess I’m all of the above.  
“I didn’t wanna say anything to you”, Baz says. He’s still not looking at me. I close my eyes, I feel like crying.  
“Just because… I promised. That I would try, for me. And I did, I am.”  
I sit on the edge of the bed, near his feet.  
“I didn’t want you to… know. That I failed.”  
He doesn’t cry, he just looks… disappointed. I still don’t know what to say. Instead I start to cry. Quietly, I don’t want him to notice. It shouldn’t be me who’s crying, this is about him.  
“Is it anorexia?”  
I remember asking him that once. I don’t know what it means. I mean, I do know what anorexia is, I just… I don’t really know what it means.  
To not eat, to decide to not eat. I don’t understand it, I don’t get it.  
And it scares me. Because the depression that Baz has, that I get. I’ve been there myself. But this? This I don’t understand.  
I don’t know how to help. I don’t know if I even can.  
I want to, Crowley, I want him to be okay.  
“Simon?” Baz whispers. I’m still crying, and I start to cry even harder now that he’s noticed.  
“Simon, I’m sorry. Please, don’t cry.”  
He gets up and wraps his hands around me. It feels so good, everything Baz does to me feels good. I keep imagining that I lose him. That I’m going to lose him to these monsters that I can’t see, that I can’t fight, can’t kill. It makes me ache, to think he could die.  
I won’t let that happen.  
I’ll fight for him, even though I don’t know how. I’ll make him live, by force, if nothing else works. I’m going to make him stay with me forever.  
“You have to stay with me”, I sob. Baz squeezes me harder, and I know, with every fiber of my being, that this is where I belong. With Baz.

“I don’t feel sick”, Baz whispers to me. We lay in my bed, wrapped around each other, and I’m making him explain. To explain to me what this is, to make me understand. So I can help, so I know what to do.  
“And I don’t even think it’s about the food. I mean, it is but not fully, anyway. It’s just… I feel like, like I can control it.” I bury my face into his chest.  
“With the blood, there is no control. I need it, I need it to stay sane. But with food… I don’t know. This is the hunger I can control. I can decide to not eat. I can do that. And when I’m feeling hungry… It’s like… I made that, I made the decision to stay hungry, and I can control it.”  
I want to say I understand.  
But I’m not sure I do. I’m not sure I even could.  
“To just be hungry for food… It makes me feel normal… It’s kinda scary. I don’t think I want to get better. I don’t really feel like I need to.”  
That scares me. The fear squeezes me, and I bleed, I bleed pure fear and desperation. This is too much, it’s too big, and I’m so small, and I don’t even have my magic anymore. Not like it ever did me any good, but I miss it.  
I miss it so much right now.  
I miss it like I’ve never missed it before. I miss what it made me, I miss being the strongest mage that ever lived. If I still had that, this would be nothing. I could just pick Baz up, and leave this, whatever it is, behind. I would make it vanish, I would find a spell, and I would make Baz forget what it feels like to not be happy.

Apparently, it’s not anorexia. (According to Google) It’s more like something in between other eating disorders? Like he has a bit of symptoms of everything. (It freaks me out, everything about this freaks me out.)  
Baz doesn’t like to say that out loud, eating disorder. But it makes me feel better, to have some word for it. It feels like I have something to blame.  
We tell Penny, and she says:  
“Huh, kinda makes sense. I mean, have you ever not had an disorder with your eating?”  
That makes Baz laugh. A little sad and bitter laugh, but amused all the same.  
“It’s gonna be okay, you know that, right?” she says to Baz, and I have never loved her more.  
See, I don’t need my parents, I have my family right here.

It’s hard to find a therapist for Baz. A) He doesn’t want one, he doesn’t feel like he is sick enough. (Which blows my mind, he’s plenty sick. I don’t tell that to him though.) B) How do you find a therapist for a vampire with an eating disorder?  
He Skypes with my therapist for now, but Naomi (my therapist) doesn’t really have any experience with eating disorders. She promised to read about it, and I’m really grateful for that. Me and Penny continue to try to find a specialist, but it makes me feel better to have Baz talk to Naomi.  
It’s hard to try to make Baz eat. It’s so much harder than I thought it would be.  
And I’m trying to understand, but I really don’t.  
But he tries, I can see that. He tries, just like he promised.

He lets me touch him again. I sit in his lap, legs wrapped tightly around him, and I kiss him just below his left ear. My hands find their way under his loose T-shirt, and he goes still.  
“Can I?” I whisper. I want to take the shirt off, I want to see all of him.  
Baz doesn’t say anything, his hands tighten around my neck.  
“It’s okay if I can’t”, I say, trying to not sound too disappointed.  
His hands suddenly move away from me, grab the hem of his shirt. He takes it off, very carefully, as if moving too fast could break him.  
I don’t touch him before he gives me a permission. I just watch him.  
He’s so skinny.  
His ribs are sticking out just a bit, and the pale skin looks tight and stretched over his bones. It breaks my heart a little, to see him like this.  
“I didn’t want you to see”, he whispers. And as I look into his eyes, I see that he is crying.  
It kind of makes me feel better, to see him cry. He hasn’t been crying in so long, at least not in front of me.  
“See what?” I ask gently, brushing away his tears with my thumbs.  
“See this. Me. I didn’t… I don’t want to gross you out.”  
His voice is so small.  
Like he could ever be anything but perfect in my eyes.  
I kiss his chest, I run my fingers along his spine. (It’s also sticking out a bit.)  
“Darling, that is not possible”, I say against his skin. I leave open mouth-kisses all over his shoulders and chest. I push him down on the bed and kiss his ribs too.  
I hope he understands.  
I hope he understands that I will always adore him, all of him.  
It’s been so long since I’ve touched him this way. It’s been too long since we last were intimate with each other.  
“I want you, Baz. I want you hard, no matter what. You are beautiful, you know that, right?”  
I take my shirt off and run my fingers from his navel to his hipbones.  
A silent question if I can have him.  
“I fucking love you Simon Snow”, he breathes, and I take him.  
He still feels the same, tastes the same. He is still my Baz, and when I make him unravel, when he tenses while I thrust into him, I keep telling him that I love him. That I want him, and I’m going to want him till the end of my days. I tell him that he might be broken, but it doesn’t matter to me, because I’m broken too. He laughs at that, tells me it such a chlisee, and I kiss him hard.  
I’ll be damned if Basilton Grimm-Pitch has to live a day on this earth thinking that Simon Snow isn’t completely, utterly and irreversibly in love with him.


End file.
